The Ones They Blame
by somersaulter
Summary: The War itself was swift, but the damage was grave; lives were left, loyalty tested, memories destroyed. Fifteen years on, Kurosaki Ichigo lives in a utopic Soul Society that is radically different from what it had been, but something isn't quite right.
1. Life As We Know It

**the ones they blame**

**prologue; life as we know it**

* * *

Fifteen years flew by. The War itself was swift, concluded within a year, but the damage was grave; lives were left, loyalty tested, memories destroyed, hopes dashed.

The healing was quick, at least in the physical sense. The wounds were soothed away by the Fourth Division, walls and buildings were constructed, and most importantly, the system was re-structured to create a perfect world.

No one talks about The War. Everyone is safe and happy. The one who leads them will guide all to a better future. Fifteen years on, and they are all content. Soon, the memories will return to haunt them all, but at least for now, everything is perfect.

* * *

The Fifth Division Captain, Kurosaki Ichigo, awoke with a start when a thick stack of papers slammed against the desk. Eyes laden with sleep, he shielded himself against the blinding white of the hakama before him, "Rukia?"

"I've finished this stack. The one Keigo brought over is still untouched," she declared flatly, a twitch of irritation creeping into her voice as she mentioned their third seat. Ichigo straightened up and re-arranged his own white hakama, removing the blanket that had somehow ended up around him, "sorry, I guess I fell asleep."

Kuchiki Rukia frowned disapprovingly as she took the blanket from him, "late night with Renji?"

"What? No! I mean, we were out helping Hollows."

"Well, I refuse to be stuck here with _your_ paperwork. This is the last time," she said, her trademark glare pressed steadily onto him.

Ichigo smirked, "fine, fine, I'll bring you out to play next time, my lieutenant."

"Am I interrupting something?" a voice drawled out from the hallway. The Third Division Lieutenant, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, was leaning against the door, an identical smirk spread across his features.

"Lieutenant Jeagerjaques," Rukia greeted him, her frown deepening. Ichigo knew Rukia was never comfortable around Grimmjow, but he never could figure out why. To him, Grimmjow felt like an old familiar foe, someone he might have clashed with, but eventually reconciled with.

"Grimmjow, what's going on?"

He rolled his eyes, "Captain sent me to remind you about the scheduled Captains' Meeting. He is convinced both you and your lieutenant will forget."

Ichigo felt Rukia flinch indignantly beside him. "I didn't forget," she stated, "I was just about to chase him off to the Assembly Hall."

"Ah! Grimmjow! Fancy seeing you here," a new voice rang out with a flash of bright green as its owner appeared in the doorway, grinning at Ichigo.

"Nel!"

Neliel tu Oderschvank, the Ninth Division Captain, was all smiles as she regarded the group, "Ichigo, you heading to the Assembly Hall?"

Ichigo nodded and rubbed the top of Rukia's head, "I'll be back soon." She glared at him again as she pushed his hand away, "please, take your time." She quite literally kicked him out of the door and pushed it shut, effectively shutting out both him and Grimmjow. The blue-haired shinigami shrugged and slipped out into the night.

"What's on the agenda today?" Ichigo asked as the two proceeded to the meeting.

"Oh, the usual, I suppose. The distribution, the recruitment, the Hollows," Nel replied, twisting her hair around as she spoke.

They exchanged brief information about the events that happened within their own divisions, but there was nothing much to report. Life was blissfully uneventful.

They arrived at the Assembly Hall and were happily greeted by a couple of the captains, namely Ukitake Jyuushiro and Kyoraku Shunsui. The other captains merely acknowledged them with a nod. A few others didn't even bother with any pleasantries. Ichigo could understand why Kuchiki Byakuya was always cold towards him, but he could not comprehend the blatant contempt from the Third Division Captain, Ulquiorra Schiffer. After all, Ichigo got along just fine with Grimmjow, his lieutenant. (But he was convinced Grimmjow had issues with Ulquiorra as well. He had always wondered how they managed to work together.)

Apparently, they were the last to arrive. Minutes later, the Captain of the First Division and the leader of Gotei 13, as well as the entire Soul Society, stepped into the hall.

"Good evening, my dear captains," Aizen Sousuke smiled.

* * *

Elsewhere, in another different plane, Urahara Kisuke continued to force his way out of Hell, Benihime, by his side, both unaffected by the fires that constantly licked at him.

* * *

**A/N:** No, it's _not_ an alternate universe. Yes, it's a future fic. More will be revealed subsequently. (Yes, I like to be cruel like that. Review, please? So I'll write faster?)


	2. The Edge of Disquietude

**the ones they blame**

**chapter 1; the edge of disquietude**

* * *

His head on the desk, Kurosaki Ichigo awoke with a start for the second time in the last twenty four hours, "Rukia?"

"ICHIGO! Wake up!"

Ichigo eyed the spinning white figure before him before slumming down again, "Keigo. Go away."

"But Captain, I've brought this morning's paperwork!" his hyperactive third seat, Asano Keigo, picked up the huge stack that he had slammed against his desk, and whacked it down again, narrowly missing Ichigo's head.

"But you already brought that in earlier," Ichigo protested.

"No, that was yesterday. But Lieutenant Kuchiki has already finished that stack. I'm just about to bring it in to the Main Office."

Keigo lifted the heavy stack of papers and slammed it down a third time in a blatant attempt to irritate him, and this time, the stack hit the captain squarely on his head.

Ichigo sprang up, scattering the papers all over the desk, "Alright! I get it! I get it!"

He had no idea how he could have thought that having Asano Keigo as his third seat would be a good idea. Never mind the fact that he was extremely talented and graduated early from the Academy, he should have known better. He had a gut feeling that the two of them knew each other when he was still alive.

"That's wonderful, Captain! Now, I have to go oversee the division's morning training," he grinned, skipping out towards the door.

"Wait, where's Rukia?"

Keigo shrugged, "haven't seen the lieutenant all morning."

Ichigo nodded and dismissed him, watching the white whirlwind dance his way out of the office.

He set out to find his lieutenant, but it didn't take much effort. There was one spot in Soul Society that she loved. It was quite a way outside Seireitei, on a grassy plain that overlooked the whole of the Court. He sat down beside her and waited for her to speak.

Eventually, she sighed and flopped down onto the grass, "I couldn't sleep well last night. I had a dream."

Ichigo's perpetual frown deepened, "about what?"

"You."

"What? Uh, I don't, I mean, don't tell me if…" If Rukia was going to start telling him about any, well, _unconventional_ dream, he was going to take off in the other direction as fast as he could.

It took Rukia two seconds to realize where his filthy mind was leading him, and only one to deliver a swift kick to his head.

"You were fighting him, desperately, but you were losing. Everyone was scared," Rukia's tone was inexpressive as she settled back onto the grass.

"What, who?" he asked, rubbing his head indignantly.

Rukia nodded towards the single white tower that stood in the middle of Soul Society, overlooking the entire civilization.

"Aizen-sama?" Ichigo frowned, "why would I ever fight him? He's our leader."

"But it felt so real. And there were people there, the other Captains, but they were all wearing black. Your sister was there, and a few others I couldn't recognize. There was a blond man with a stupid green and white hat, and a beautiful lady with dark skin, and a little girl with short black hair," she trailed off, closing her eyes as if trying to bring up the vision again.

"Haven't you ever wondered?" Rukia continued, her eyes remaining shut.

"Hm?"

"It doesn't add up. I know I died and became a Shinigami long ago, but my memories are so fuzzy and faint. My last clear memory dates back a mere fifteen years ago. My last memory is just you, being your lieutenant. I can't even remember how we met."

"You know what Aizen-sama said; something happened to Soul Society fifteen years ago," Ichigo reminded her as he shifted uncomfortably.

"What happened? What happened to us? What were we before?" Rukia turned to him now, staring straight into his eyes as if looking for answers within them.

"That's irrelevant." Ichigo dodged the question. Under Rukia's piercing look, he relented, "yes, I've thought about it. But Aizen-sama said it doesn't matter. I believe him." He lied to convince her and to ease her worry, but no, it was not an easy thing to accept.

"I don't," Rukia whispered, echoing his thoughts.

His hand slid over towards hers awkwardly and he offered what little comfort he could, "it's okay. We'll be okay."

"We should get back," she remarked after a moment, pulling away.

They made their way back to Seireitei in silence, Ichigo's thoughts spiraling madly. Rukia headed straight back to the office while Ichigo took a slight detour to visit his sister in the Fourth Division.

Kurosaki Yuzu was a late bloomer. She spent the standard six years in the Academy and her results were average, but she rose through the ranks quickly. Now, looking as old as Hitsugaya Toushiro, the Tenth Division Captain, the talented teenager is the fifth in command of the Fourth Division.

"Nii-san," she greeted him happily.

The Fourth Division's Third Seat, Inoue Orihime was there as well. She was a close friend of both Yuzu and Rukia, and thus by default, him. Blessed with a sweet temperament and exceptional healing skills, she was popular and adored by the whole of Seireitei.

Two other Shinigamis were in the room. One didn't react to his entrance, while the other scowled, visibly upset that one more person had seen him in his present state.

"Grimmjow," Ichigo could barely keep the laughter out of his voice, eyeing his charred left arm, "what the hell happened to you? Why do you always end up hurting your left arm? Bad karma?"

"Shut up." Grimmjow reached for the nearest object he could find to hurl at Ichigo, but unfortunately for him, the cotton balls bounced harmless off of his target, which only induced more laughter from said target.

"Lieutenant Grimmjow was overseeing orientation day for the first-years over at the Academy, and there was an accident," Yuzu explained while Orihime worked on the arm.

Now this was an issue Ichigo could never comprehend. Why Aizen-sama thought it appropriate to leave Ulquiorra and Grimmjow in charge of the Academy and the important task of nurturing their next generation was beyond him. One was cheerless and cold, the other sadistic and rough; there could not possibly be a worse choice. (Except, perhaps, the Eleventh Division.)

"That female is strong, but she cannot control her own power, not unlike you, Kurosaki Ichigo," Ulquiorra spoke up.

Ichigo had gotten used to Ulquiorra's insults to ignore them, so he probed about the new prodigy instead, "only a first-year? Who is this student?"

"Arisawa Tatsuki," Grimmjow spat the name out, clearly still nursing a grudge, as well as a bruised ego.

Soten Kisshun's healing barrier around Grimmjow's arm disappeared abruptly.

"Orihime-san?" Yuzu reached for Orihime, who had suddenly gone slightly pale.

"I just… That name, it's very familiar," Orihime closed her eyes, her hands pressed on her temple.

"Yeah," Ichigo mumbled, fighting the unease that had been building up ever since his conversation with Rukia.

"You know her?" Grimmjow demanded accusingly.

"No? I don't think so," Ichigo replied hesitatingly.

"Inoue?" Grimmjow turned his death glare towards the third seat.

"Ah, I don't, I…" Orihime shook her head and re-assembled the healing barrier, head bowed low, hiding her face.

The silence stretched out, and Ichigo watched Ulquiorra eye Orihime suspiciously while the latter concentrated on healing Grimmjow's arm, vehemently avoiding any eye contact.

"Return to the office when your arm is healed and when you learn to defend yourself against first-years," Ulquiorra instructed and left in a rush of green and white before Grimmjow could ever muster up an indignant response. He left loose another string of profanities.

"Hey, not in front of my sister," Ichigo interrupted. "I have to head back as well, or else Rukia is going to sign all my documents under 'Chappy' again and pretend I did it."

Grimmjow snorted but withheld any smartass remarks under Ichigo's scornful glare.

Yuzu nodded, "I'll see you at home."

"Have a safe trip back, Kurosaki-kun," Orihime raised her head to send him off. He could see the confusion in her eyes.

* * *

Elsewhere, in the white tower situated in the exact center of Seireitei, Ichimaru Gin, Lieutenant of the First Division, and effectively, the second-in-command of the whole of Seireitei and Soul Society, entered the Main Office, his footsteps light and chipper.

"I sense a disturbance in the Force," he informed his captain cheerfully.

Aizen Sousuke tilted his head and waited for him to elaborate.

"Did you not watch any of the movies that Kurosaki Ichigo brought in?" Gin asked, a pout tugging at the corner of his lips.

"I do not believe I authorized such imports, Gin," Sousuke reminded him.

Gin's smile flipped for a fraction of a second but he ignored the gentle reproach, approaching his captain with the actual matter on hand, "something, or someone, is attacking the sphere. Some of the Shinigamis are getting restless. "

"I'm aware of that, Gin."

"Are you not going to do anything about it?" Gin pressed.

"I will do what is necessary, when it's necessary."

The smiling lieutenant paused, nodded his satisfaction, and left the tower in search of a certain Fifth Division Captain to demand more entertainment.

* * *

That evening, Rukia was the one who fell asleep in the office.

From the cold winter nights spent working overtime, to those lazy summer evenings spent squabbling about the most impossible things, the two of them had come to consider the Fifth Division Office as their second home and their personal belongings littered the working area. (That was so, unless Keigo had dropped by earlier to clean it up. Who could possibly tell that he was such a neat freak?)

Removing Rukia's favorite Chappy blanket from among the papers, he draped it over her sleeping form on the couch. Scrutinizing her face, he wondered if she was dreaming about him again.

Fighting, that was.

He slumped down onto the floor and leaned back against the legs of the couch, listening to Rukia's gentle, even breathing. It had been a long day.

Four separate, internal fights broke out in his division. In addition, a fresh batch of Hollows appeared right outside Seireitei just before sunset and his division was dispatched to guide the Hollows to the path. Trying to direct his men when they were so restless was not an easy task, especially when his own lieutenant was distracted. And amidst the chaos, Ichimaru Gin had shown up to ask for more DVDs, with no intention of helping to organize his unsettled division.

His eyelids heavy, he laid his head on the cushion, intending to catch a quick wink before continuing the endless paperwork.

It might had been hours, or it might had been mere seconds, but the next thing he knew, a figure shrouded in darkness was in front of him, clutching both Zangetsu and Sode no Shirayuki.

Immediately alert, Ichigo jumped up towards the intruder instinctively, "what the hell!"

"Way of Binding Number 1: Sai." A female voice rang out loud and clear from the shadows.

"Kidou?" Ichigo muttered even as he felt his limbs freeze. He easily overcame the binding spell, but he knew the few fraction of a second that he took to recover had given his opponent the upper hand.

A strong front snap to his face proved him right and he stumbled back.

"Ichigo!" Rukia was standing behind him, alert, but confused.

"Rukia! Stay back," Ichigo rushed forward again just as the intruder came towards him, their zanpaktous still in her hands.

When he attacked, she blocked his moves smoothly, correctly predicting every single one of his moves. A shuto to his kidneys and a side kick to his temple later, Ichigo was seeing stars. He tried to block further attacks, but the female was fast, strong and accurate.

"What the hell, you bitch," Ichigo spat out the blood in his mouth.

"You never did beat me in karate, Kurosaki Ichigo," the female spoke.

"Way of Destruction Number –" Rukia's incantation was halted midway as the intruder rushed up behind her and rendered her unconscious with a simple strike, "sorry, Kuchiki-san."

"Rukia!" Ichigo stumbled back up and gathered his strength into his arm for one good attack, but even that, too, was deterred by a reverse punch.

"You people are useless without your zanpaktous. How pathetic."

"Who the hell are you?" Ichigo demanded, drawing precious gasps of air into his struggling lungs.

"Is there nothing else you can ask?"

"No, you bitch," Ichigo coughed out, his anger rising with each breath.

"You really don't remember? Well, you will soon, you brat." The intruder paused before she laid her hand on his hand, "I hope. And also, I'm sorry, Ichigo."

And then there was blackness.

* * *

It is said that war changes people. The war between souls and Hollows that had raged on for centuries changed Kurosaki Karin once when she lost someone dear to her, and The War between Shinigamis and Arrancars torn her apart a second time.

She took over her father's clinic, and was a brilliant doctor, but residents in the area thought her to be unfriendly and cold. She had made more than a few of the sick children cry when they visited her. Her own assistant in the clinic, a lady barely a few years younger than her, shunned her as possible as she could.

She kept human contact to the minimum, her only constant companion being her black cat. Children fueled the rumors of her practice of witchcraft with stories of her talking black cat, but adults dismissed them. Her withdrawal was understandable; she had lost three of her family members in a rather unfortunate incident.

One night, a man with striking red hair showed up at her door.

"Abarai Renji, what do you want?"

"We've got him. We've got him back. "

At her feet, Shihoin Yoruichi, permanently sealed in her cat form, closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

**A/N:** Honestly, this is my first attempt in writing something this epic, so I'm threading in unknown waters here. Reviews is very much appreciated, just to let me know if I'm doing okay. Is it not funny enough, or not dramatic enough, or is the plot way off? Constructive comments are also very welcomed. I find that they are all very good motivators.


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